


Plant Yourself Like A Tree

by 17826



Series: Homecoming [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel
Genre: Amnesia, Canon Compliant, Cartinelli is only referred to for obvious reasons, French, Multi, Panic Attacks, Polyglot!Bucky, Romanian, Russian, Steve allowing himself to feel an Emotion for two goddamn seconds, T'Challa being kinder n better than anyone, polish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 06:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6893689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17826/pseuds/17826
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A scene missing from the final cut of Civil War : Bucky has questions and Steve is the only person who could answer them .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> note : there is a brief but in-depth description of a panic attack in the middle of the story , so if u would rather not read that , here is ur warning
> 
> also thank u to Reaty for help with the Russian translation ; all other translations were done with online dictionaries , so if u spot any corrections please do shoot me a comment ^^ thank u

"Your birthday's November 21st, right?" He asked uncertainly, voice hushed as if that would stop T'Challa hearing from his seat a few feet away. But they've been in this barely-there aeroplane for almost an hour now and no one has attacked anyone else, so maybe it doesn't matter.

 

"Nah, July 4th." Steve corrected, the tired warmth in his eyes still shining, despite the last few days, despite the last few decades.

 

Bucky frowned and almost argued back, hearing Sarah Roger's voice in his ears like it was yesterday - and it was strange how elastic his memory was now, stretching and snapping back at random moments - 'it was the first sleet, no warmth in that day, please don't tell him Jamie, he should be a summer child' and the death rattle of the influenza in her lungs echoed through the ages as Bucky realised Steve still didn't know. He wasn't going to start breaking promises to her now so he nodded. "Mine's March 10th?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Bucky looked away. The tiny plane had not been built with an additional two supersoldiers in mind so there was barely space between his own body and Steve's, shoulder nearly touching metal shoulder where they sat in the space meant for supplies, the slim gap between them left for where Bucky's arm used to be. Steve had been upset when T'Challa had offered so little space but they needed to leave the other plane for Stark since Steve grounded his suit, and Bucky hadn't been lying when he had said he was okay with small spaces; small spaces meant sleep and no missions and no headaches or newly imbalanced weight across his shoulders. T'Challa had assured Steve that he would land and swap them into his private jet when they got to Switzerland, but for now they only had this option. Steve was trying so hard not to show how upset he was, but Bucky could see that expression transposed exactly onto a smaller frame - 'you get your orders?' - and he didn't know how to fix it. He thinks Natalia or Sam would have called Steve out. He doesn't know what James Barnes would have done. He sits and waits.

 

"How are you feeling?" Steve murmurs after a while, nudging his knuckle against Bucky's thigh. He hasn't looked away once yet. His question echoed, jak się czujesz, and the last time someone asked Bucky that, Pierce had killed them. He could count on one hand the number of people who'd tried to help him escape, and on less than that the number of them he remembered.

 

"Like I need a damn nap." He lied, catching himself before the words came out in Polish. "I'm fine."

 

Steve smiled crookedly. "You said that a lot after Austria."

 

"Probably because I was, jeez Rogers, quit worrying at me."

 

It was silent for a moment and Bucky was suddenly horribly aware he'd made some mistake, maybe missed some pattern they'd had before. He felt embarrassment flush in his cheeks and mortifying tears sting his eyes, and he tried to flex his fingers before remembering they were gone too. His next words came out haltingly, missing the inflections he knew they should have.

 

"How are you?"

 

"I'm fine too."

 

"How's..." He started before his brain caught up and then he was stuck as Steve looked at him sharply. He hadn't known how to ask this question ever before, and he didn't know now, but he had to say something and he was coming up blank for any other options. "Who is still- are we the only- how is...?" He let his voice trail off. No phrasing sounded right, but Steve would know what he meant.

 

Sure enough, Steve did. "We're the only ones left Buck, yeah." His voice did not match the finality of his words and Bucky didn't have to do more than raise an eyebrow before Steve let words pour out of him like water from a burst dam, like he hadn't spoken to anyone in 70 years, and maybe he really hadn't. "Falsworth died first, TB and he was only 38, then Dum Dum died for SHIELD back in the 50s. Everyone else died naturally, Dernier and Peggs were still around when I woke up. Dernier really thought he was the last of us, remember all those jokes? Premier d'arriver, Dernier de partir. He lived to 101, Buck. And he was awake for almost all of it. Technically, he probably still has lived longer than us. Or I mean, longer than me at least. I don't know how long- ah, I mean how much...?"

 

Steve's question died in his throat and it was now his turn to flush red with embarrassment. Bucky remembered his inflections this time but his voice came out a lot louder than he expected in his haste to move the conversation on. "And Carter? How's Carter doing?"

 

Steve looked away for the first time since they took off. "She was so beautiful, Buck. She told me everything. She did so many great things, she started SHIELD and saved Tony from his coke addiction back when... Uh, and she got married back in the 60s. I never met the guy, he died before I woke up, but she said we saved him back in the war. Her eyes never changed, Buck. All those years, still she had those deep brown eyes, though she gave up on the red lipstick. I still think the best thing Erskine's serum gave me was the right eyes to see that lipstick with."

 

"All past tense?" Bucky said, tears gone from his eyes now. Disappoint Steve and he was threatening sobs, but hearing about his whole family dying and he was dry eyed. What was wrong with him? Steve looked up again. Well, not his whole family, Bucky supposed.

 

"She died a few days ago. Her funeral was the same day Zimo bombed the UN, it's why I was even in Europe. It wasn't exactly unexpected, but... Well, y'know." And Steve, who never cried, who carried his sadness in his shoulders and his smile, was blinking too much. His eyes were wet with a humanity Bucky had lost long before his fall in the Alps and he shifted uncertainly as phantom pains shot up his metal shoulder and down his spine. Absently, he realised his first instinct was to slap Steve even though he knew that was just Pierce echoing in his head.

 

"Did she live well?" He asked, for lack of anything else to say.

 

"Yeah, I think she did," Steve replied thickly and Bucky was horrified to see a tear drip down his crooked beak of a nose. "Natasha knew her before I woke up, though I don't think she knows I know that, and she reckons... Well she was a bit confused in the end but yeah, Peggs was happy I think."

 

Bucky could imagine it perfectly, could feel Carter's joy at having Steve back in the same way he could still feel the loose plate in his left forearm, could still feel Steve's hand against his neck from earlier. He always knew she would be the one to soften the set of Steve's shoulders, he had just figured it would be at their wedding, a few years after the war, when Bucky wasn't around to see it. As he watched it now, it didn't hurt the way he had expected it to. He wanted to write it down and spared a thought for what would happen to his notebooks now they were confiscated - probably not a museum like the last time his possessions had been taken by the US government, and God wasn't that a tiring thought. He'd come full circle but this time he knew он не может убить себя, программа не должна допускать такой возможности and he braced for the slap that accompanied those words before realising it wasn't going to come.

 

"Buck?" Came Steve's voice, almost breathless in the way that meant he was trying to mask panic because he'd definitely noticed that flinch. "Are you okay?" From a few feet away, T'Challa visibly tensed, and Bucky's shoulder ached as he tried to bring his arm up to shield his face and found it missing. He wasn't aware he was backing away, pulling himself with his one arm because there was no space to stand up, until he almost overbalanced and cracked his head against the walls of the plane. "Bucky!" Steve was crouched now, giving Bucky as much space as he could but still with one hand stretched halfway towards him, conflicting desires. T'Challa had dropped his pretence and his seat had turned to face them, tense hands hovering near a panel in the wall where some kind of weapon must be concealed.

 

Lights danced in front of his unfocused eyes as he gasped out words, trying to reassure them, he was alright, he knew where he was, "Sunt bine, aștepta, Rogers, sunt bine," and he clutched at the wiring in his shoulder, cutting his fingers. Steve lurched forwards, eyes wide, and Bucky flinched a second time, scrambling to get away from him, but there was no space and without his arm, he lost his balance again. Steve backed off once more and T'Challa was next to him, a tranquilliser gun trained on Bucky, and his vision was still blurred. "Oprește-te, te rog, Stevie-" he realised there were tears coating his cheeks and he reached up to touch them and it stung, looking down again to see tears mingling with blood on his sliced fingertips. Steve made a noise like a wounded animal and was back on his knees in front of him, reaching for Bucky's hand and not coming any closer.

 

"Fuck, Bucky, please, come on," his voice was deep with emotion and Bucky's ears finally stopped wringing. "I'm sorry Buck, I don't know what you're saying, Bucky please-"

 

"I'm fine, I'm okay, Steve, sun- I'm okay." He interrupted with a concerted effort to switch back to English, eyes fixed on Steve's, willing him to see that Bucky knew him, wasn't going to attack, just needed a second. Steve's arm dropped down once more and he nodded, shoulders stiff, so Bucky tore away from his gaze and focused on T'Challa. "Sorry, I'm fine, just give me a minute, sorry." At his words, T'Challa relaxed by degrees and slowly put down the gun.

 

"Do you need anything?" He asked simply as Bucky pulled himself shakily back up to a slumped lean against the wall of the plane, and a wet laugh was shocked out of his lungs.

 

"No, thanks, I'm okay, thank you." He squeezed his eyes shut and wiped his hand over his face before realising what he was doing and looking back up once more. "Or, actually, uh..." He held his bloodied fingers out imploringly and T'Challa produced a small medical kit from the same compartment he'd got his gun from. He worked quietly and efficiently, keeping his distance but not forcing Bucky to reach too far as he cleaned off the blood and sanitised the deceptively small scratches and then, with a small sound of assurance from Bucky, cleaned the drying blood off his face too. No one spoke for almost ten minutes.

 

"Would you be uncomfortable if I bandaged your shoulder? I think it would be better if the exposed wires were covered." T'Challa eventually spoke in his measured, calming tone. Bucky gave a jerky nod and shifted to allow better access to his shoulder. His eyes fell on Steve, who looked almost ready to faint as he watched T'Challa inspect what remained of Bucky's arm.

 

"Hey Steve," he said softly, and wide blue eyes, unchanged since the day they met, immediately flicked to him. "I'm really sorry about Carter. She ever make her mind up about me, d'you reckon?"

 

"I dunno Buck, I never asked, but..." He trailed off, eyes flicking to T'Challa, before he steeled his jaw and continued. "But she spoke about you a few times, on some of her good days - the days when she remembered almost everything," He explained in response to Bucky's confused look. "She said she read a few of the books published about the Howling Commandos once she retired, and some of the books written about you in particular."

 

"Books about me? Why are there books about me? And what's Carter doing reading them?" Bucky asked, incredulous.

 

"We were all kind of famous, what with the comic books and my dashing good looks- ow, cut it out-"

 

"If you could try and keep still, I'd really appreciate it." T'Challa murmured, and Bucky stopped kicking Steve's knee.

 

"Sure, the Howling Commandos, but whole books about me? Why?"

 

"It's just history Buck, there's some people who really... Well they kinda identified with what they saw of you, claimed you as a historical figure for their cause." Steve was visibly uncomfortable, and T'Challa had gone strangely still. "They all thought you were long dead, and I never read their books, figured it was your business."

 

"But Carter read them?" Bucky was still nonplussed.

 

"Yeah, she... I think she figured she owed it to you, or maybe to me, to try and understand. She never told me what the books said, but I got the gist of it. There's a whole section on my Wikipedia page about it, believe it or not." Suddenly an old panic returned to Bucky, older than hydra, older than the war, old enough that it was almost comforting he could still feel it; an old panic rooted in one bedroom apartments in Brooklyn in a neighbourhood where two men sharing an apartment wasn't so uncommon, and the gossip from girls at the dance when Bucky had to take Steve home early because of his asthma, and the dizzying mantra that Steve could never know. He was more aware than ever of the unnamed notebook he'd left in Germany. As he tried to maintain his expression, Steve kept talking. "It's nothing offensive, just people know where we lived after ma died and the world's so much more accepting now, so they just put two and two together." Steve's eyes were imploring him to understand, and Bucky opened his mouth with no idea what he was going to say next until T'Challa snapped the lid shut on the medical kit.

 

"Excuse me." He murmured, passing between where Bucky and Steve sat mirroring each other against the walls of the plane. When he had sat down once more in the pilot's seat, Steve was looking away.

 

"And Carter was okay with that?" Bucky asked after a moment.

 

"I don't know how much of it she believed, but she told me all about this girl she knew before she got married. I think if she'd had a problem with what people were saying you were, she might have been a bit of a hypocrit, Buck." Bucky tried not to let his shock show at that, and then Steve was fighting to keep a smirk off his face.

 

"Didn't Dugan call dibs on that for the sweepstakes?" Bucky remembered suddenly with a grin, and then Steve was laughing, his shoulders loose and relaxed once more.

 

"Yeah, she lived well, Buck." He said and his smile was softened, eyes more happy than sad in the end. "I really think she did."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes - as I said above , please please correct me if u can

TRANSLATIONS (Chronological order)

jak się czujesz [Polish] : how are you  
Premier d'arriver, Dernier de partir [French] : first to arrive, last to leave (Dernier means last)  
он не может убить себя, программа не должна допускать такой возможности [Russian] : he cannot kill himself, the program must not allow for that possibility  
Sunt bine, aștepta, Rogers, sunt bine, [Romanian] : I'm fine, wait, Rogers, I'm fine  
Oprește-te, te rog, Stevie- [Romanian] : Stop, please, Stevie-

**Author's Note:**

> I really think this scene would be in the extended cut of the movie , were it ever to be released . though of course , without the gay stuff because we all know marvel hates The Gays™ . ah well , I trust the Russo brothers so I'm sure it's on the cutting room floor somewhere .
> 
> the thing with Steve's birthday is inspired by / lifted from "The stone's in the midst of it all" by togina .
> 
> kudos and comments appreciated x


End file.
